Spending both Friday and Saturday evenings at Jabula has become one of the highlights of our weekends. No matter how the week has unfolded, there is something comforting about knowing exactly where we will end up when the sun begins to set. Even on quieter weekends, when fewer people wander in, we never feel at a loss for conversation. Dawn, Leon, and their manager Corrine always make the evening feel lively and welcoming, as if we are stepping into a familiar gathering rather than a public place.
Each time we walk through the door, we are greeted with warm smiles and a sense of easy recognition. Without hesitation, we settle into our usual spots at the bar, where a reserved sign seems to say that this little space has become part of our routine. There is something simple and satisfying about that. No decisions to make about where to sit, no uncertainty about what comes next. We order our drinks almost without thinking, and they are being prepared as we walk through the door. Tom choses his Lion beer, and I chose my ultra-light white wine. It has become our small ritual, one that marks the transition from the day into an evening of relaxation.
Most nights, especially when it is just the two of us, we order our dinner and eat right there at the bar. There is something casual and unpretentious about it that suits us perfectly. When we meet up with friends, we tend to move outside to the veranda to dine, where conversations seem to stretch a little longer. Both settings have their charm, and we have come to appreciate each for different reasons.
One thing that continues to amaze me is how well Tom has managed to avoid smoking. It has been nearly two years since he quit, and he did it all at once, without easing into it or relying on substitutes. That alone is something I deeply admire. It is not always easy, especially in a place where smoking indoors is still allowed. The temptation is there, lingering in the background, particularly in moments when others around him are lighting up. Yet he holds steady.
Interestingly, smoking is not permitted out on the veranda, only inside the bar area. Despite that, the smoke indoors never feels overwhelming, especially with the doors open to the outside air. It drifts rather than lingers, and over time, we have grown accustomed to it. We have also learned not to judge those who choose to smoke. It is simply part of the culture here, more common than in many places we have spent time before. Everyone makes their own choices, just as Tom made his when he decided to stop.
His decision, of course, was not made lightly. The diagnosis of pulmonary fibrosis changed everything. After more than forty-two years working on the railroad, with constant exposure to asbestos and countless other chemicals, the risks he once carried in the background became very real. We have known too many of his coworkers and friends who faced devastating lung conditions, some of whom did not survive them. Those experiences stay with you, shaping how you look at each day.
At this stage in our lives, there is a deeper awareness of how fragile health can be. We do not take our time for granted. Instead, we try to live in a way that honors that understanding, doing what we can to stay as healthy as possible while still enjoying the life we have built. Our days are full, not only on weekends but throughout the week as well. There is always something to do, someone to see, somewhere to go.
And perhaps that is what makes these evenings at Jabula feel so meaningful. They are not just about the food or the drinks, but about connection, routine, and gratitude. Sitting there side by side, surrounded by familiar faces and easy conversation, we are reminded of how fortunate we are. Life here in the bush has given us a rich and active social world, something we cherish more with each passing day.
Be well.
Photos from ten years ago today, June 26, 2016:
